


Swept Off His Feet

by Magical_Pirate



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Dancing, M/M, ya like jazz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Pirate/pseuds/Magical_Pirate
Summary: “What kind of music do you like?” Reno asks, not suspicious at all.“Jazz. Why?”“You know how to dance, right?”
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	Swept Off His Feet

**Author's Note:**

> First English fic, wooho! Thanks MadManta for being my beta >w< and discord server for helping with the title hah  
> The song they danced to is "Caro Emerald - That man"

If someone ever asked Reno if being a Turk was somehow hard or dull, he’d just laugh at them. Because, really – why would it be? Turks get paid well, can live on the Upper Plate, have privileges to kick idiots in the face, and many other perks. As for Reno, the Turk job is more than okay to him – he loves it, and he would never change it, even if someone offered him to do anything else.

Unfortunately though, there still are some really boring days. Like today – when there are no Plate patrols, no “Checking on the Ancient” stuff, no kicking AVALANCHE butts duty – nothing really interesting. These days are lazy, and Reno wants to whine about it, like that would do something. But he still does – though not in the way he could’ve done it. He does it in a “less annoying” way, which still sometimes make Tseng’s eye twitch.

On this exact day, he lays on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling and loudly sighing. Tseng is at some kind of a meeting (“Bet it’s a special meeting with VP,” Reno snorted when Tseng walked away), Elena has a task with some SOLDIERs, and that leaves Rude and him in the office by themselves. It’s not like Reno wants to complain, but the fact that Rude is working and is actually writing that damn report about yesterday’s “incident” under the plate almost draws his ire. Doesn’t he have better things to do?

“Hey, partner,” Reno starts, sitting up and sighing like he was tired from doing nothing, “I’m bored.’’

“Mmh,” was Rude’s response. And that is reasonable: unlike Reno, he is _busy_ , letting that nice expensive pen write some serious sentences. In any other case, Reno would’ve let him continue, but not this time. Tseng may want that report before lunch break, but he can wait. Reno stands up and lazily goes to Rude’s table. He looks at the paper and raises his eyebrows. “Almost done?”

“Not at all,” Rude shakes his head and glances up at Reno. “I’m sure you can find something to do as well.”

“I’m not doing the paperwork,” Reno tsks and shrugs, not daring to look at his workstation. There are some papers, yeah, but they both know that the redhead will do them only when the time comes. Or when Tseng runs out of patience.

He sighs and looks around. He can take a nap or go to the gym alone, but that still sounds boring, and Reno isn’t in the mood for killing holographic creatures. Reno is about to sit down and pout, but suddenly an idea strikes him.

“What kind of music do you like?” he asks, not suspicious at all.

“Jazz. Why?” Rude answers and glances up at Reno again, watching while his partner gets his phone out and pokes the screen a few times. Reno doesn’t say anything and just lays his phone on the table. He lightly taps it, and the office fills with music. Rude likes the song, it’s fast and nice, but he still doesn’t _get_ it.

Then Reno smirks. “You know how to dance, right?”

Oh. _Oh._

“But I have—”

“Oh, he _can_ wait, you know that damn well,” Reno almost snaps when Rude tries to make a stupid – _pathetic_ – excuse. “Come on, or do you _not_ know how to dance?”

Reno doesn’t have to say the line twice, and Rude finally stands up. He can almost _feel_ Reno’s mood. And maybe he fully can, considering the fact that he starts tapping his shoe to the beat of the song. He lightly smirks as well, so lightly only Reno can usually recognize it. He starts snapping his fingers, amazingly loud despite his gloves, and lightly bounces on his feet, getting used to the rhythm. Reno, excited, copies him.

“I thought you agreed that — woah!”

Reno actually can’t finish his thought, because when the words start, Rude grabs him by the hand and twirls around himself. Reno gasps in surprise, but tries to understand whatever his partner was planning in order to get into it. Rude lets his hand go, so he can scuff at the floor without being afraid that he may accidently hurt Reno, bending his knees a bit, and Reno tries to copy him again, clumsily. They bounce a bit (Rude definitely giving Reno some time to adjust to his movements, because it really _is_ Reno’s first time dancing to this kind of song), and when the pace goes a little slower, Rude stretches his hand to Reno. This time he doesn’t grab him, only leaving his palm outstretched and inviting.

“Too fast?” Rude asks slyly, and Reno laughs, gripping his hand in some kind of awkward handshake. It’s a miracle that they don’t bump into a chair or the long table, and only then Reno understands that Rude actually somehow moved them to where there was more space to dance. Truly a miracle – and where the hell did Rude learn how to dance like this?! But Reno doesn’t have time for questions; he tries to keep up with his partner’s movements, kicking the floor with heels of shoes and waving free hands. It’s not a surprise when Rude grabs his waist, so Reno puts his left hand on Rude’s shoulder, and they dance around an imaginary circle, turning from side to side.

It's quiet between them again, and Rude lets him go, allowing him to rest a bit. Reno chuckles, spins around himself and deeply bows. He doesn’t mock, but he does squint, looking up at Rude; now it’s his time to chuckle. Right after that Reno copies him again, mirroring his movements and nearly stepping all over Rude's feet. Thankfully, he doesn’t do that. Reno instead saunters around Rude, giving a short jump so it’s Rude who spins now. They're holding hands close to one another again, snapping their fingers in sync.

The time goes on, the song almost ends, but then Rude grabs Reno’s waist once more, though this time it’s different. This time Rude bends Reno, his ponytail touching the ground and almost laying there, lifts him up – and does it again. Two times more, and after that they kick the air and the floor. Then Rude twirls him, pulling him close to his chest, and grabs his other hand, so Reno hops to Rude’s left.

Rude bends him again – three times – before the music stops. When it does, they stop as well, staring into each other’s eyes – minty blue and chocolate brown – and panting against each other’s mouths. Reno wants to kiss Rude, he really does, Rude almost leans down to grant his – their – wish…

…but a sudden light cough makes them realize that they are not alone anymore. They both turn their heads in unison, though they had long since stopped dancing. Reno grips Rude’s shoulder tightly, trying not to fall, while one of his legs uncomfortably bends under himself and the other one is high in the air, so Reno is almost laying on Rude’s arm. They hold their breaths.

They were so lost in the rhythm that they didn’t even hear when the door opened.

“I believe that you're having the time of your life,” says Tseng, walking past them to his desk, ignoring the song as it started over, “but the day is not over yet. Get back to work.”

Both men chuckle, standing straight, and go back to their places – Rude to his workstation and Reno to the sofa, completely not paying attention to Tseng’s glare.

At least it was worth it.


End file.
